Rachel

I've been running all my life. Away from the horrid memories of the sacrifices my mother made to protect me, and to protect my name from this evil world we live in...
But everything's changed...
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I've recently found out my mother was murdered by a psychopath; choosing the wrong pill in a game of chance that would give away her secret. That gave away my name.
That cost her her life...
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I heard a man named Sherlock Holmes had solved my mother's case along with others who had fallen of the same fate. I must find him so I can warn him: for he does not know what he has gotten himself into...

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7. Caught Pink Handed

I limp as I start to get out of the car, Mycroft offering no help at all unlike the man I never thought he was.

"So, Rachel...how hard has your life been without being able to see your mother?" He asks sternly.

"Go to hell."

He chuckles at the thought of such a "gentleman" as himself going straight into that fiery pit of doom, but I think personally think he would fit right in.

"If you really want to know..." I start, "It's been terrible. I the last thing I said to her was 'I love you' on a skype chat, and I've never been able to live with myself ever since she died. I even got so low, that I almost took a gun to my head. But I remained strong, and I didn't pull the trigger, but sometimes I wish I did. I never put a gun near myself again, and then I tried to start over. Get a job, live like my mom never died, and maybe, just maybe, get a husband, grow old, and die. IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED? HMMMM? THERE YOU GO. CONGRATS, MYCROFT HOLMES, YOU JUST WON CREEPER ASSHOLE OF THE YEAR."

Mycroft gets quite mad after this comment, and grabs my face very tightly, and it starts to sting after a while.

"Listen here, Rachel Wilson. I am trying to protect you. You are the only person I have no data in this entire COUNTRY. When it comes to my job, there is no such thing as secrecy. I could find out every dirty secret about every person within a 200-mile radius, but you are the only one I know nothing about. The stray sheep in God's herd. Sure, I have barely any data on this 'Ruby Willow' of yours, but be sure that I will not STOP until I have EVERY single drop of information about you. You can be sure of th-"

I cut him off with a punch to the face and limp away as fast as I can. Whilst I'm limping for my life, I reach for my phone in my pocket...but to my alarm, it's not there.

 

God DAMMIT!

 

I hear the roar of a car not far behind me as soon as I get to the pavement, and I feel as though this is the end. I know, especially with my limp, that they were going to catch me, but I keep going. Even if I am going to get caught, I might as well go down fighting. Then, out of nowhere, I hear the call of an angel sent to help me...

 

"GET THE FUCK IN!"

 

I quickly turn my head to see a young boy in his late teens, gesturing for me to get in his dark blue sports car. I attempt to sprint and slightly succeed at getting into the passenger seat of his car. I yell "DRIVE!" at the top of my lungs as soon as I got my seatbelt on. He floored the gas pedal as we set off with a fast start.  We swerve and take a few sharp turns, but we eventually lose them...

 

He finally slows the car and parks in an alley way near a railroad and some old apartments. After a brief moment of silence only filled by our frantic, hyperventilating breaths, I finally gather the courage to say something.

 

"Thank you...I mean, really." I say as I turn towards him. "If it weren't for you, I'd probably be strapped to a chair, being forced to answer personal questions..." He chuckles a nervous kinda chuckle, and as his face turns towards mine, I realize how H-O-T HOT he is!

 

He had a mass of dark curly hair, but his looked less polished and more flat than Sherlock's. I couldn't make out what color his eyes are, and they continue to change colors through out our conversation. He was wearing a green hoodie and had some pretty tight skinny jeans on from my observations...

"It was my pleasure to save you miss..." I clumsily realize he was asking for my name.

"Rachel." I reply shyly.

"Well, Rachel is a very beautiful name. I think I might need to put on my Goron tunic, though, because you are SO hot..." I laugh so hard at his cheeky Legend of Zelda pick up line. Probably the hardest I've laughed since my mom died.

"Okay sweetheart," I say after I finally stop laughing, "If you want to get anywhere with me, you're gonna have to tell me your name." He chuckles again.

"The name's Ligouri." He states in a seductive voice. "PJ Ligouri." 

I surprisingly laugh again. "Okay, please stop with the corny pick up lines, please."

"Fine." He says after he thinks it over. "I'm surprised you don't think I'm a pervert."

"Oh, I do." I assure him. "But you saved my life. Also, if you try anything funny, I will beat you." I finally say with a serious look on my face.

"How old are you?" I finally ask out of curiosity.

"17." There's a slight silence as I realize he probably thinks I'm 16, by the way he was flirting with me. At least, I think he was flirting with me...

"So...I think you should go back to where you live, right?" He asks, and I shyly nod. I tell him to drop me off on Baker Street, and as we drive, I ask him a few other questions. His favorite colour is green (which explains the hoodie), he loves Pokemon, Legend of Zelda, and drawing, but most of all he LOVES to tell stories. He told me about some that he had already written: tales of him and a fuzzy, flying, pengiun companion Fuzzwald fighting off giant Love Bugs and light-sucking cyclopses, and he also told me about some cranky clown named Wiggles and the so-called "Richest Fly in The Universe". He was about to end his story about how he met the moon at a crazy space party when we arrived at my destination. I looked longingly at 221B, and even more longingly at my new friend-that-could-eventually-be-more-than-a-friend friend. Just before I open my door, PJ grabs my wrist, and stops me from leaving the car.

"Wait." he says as he takes out a small notebook and starts to draw. He then scribbles something I can't see and tears the paper out of his notebook, folds it in a neat fashion, and hands it to me. I give him a quick peck on the cheek, of which I have never done before (and was scared to do, nevertheless.) and left his shiny blue sports car.

Just before I get to the door, however, I feel something grab my shoulder and spin me round.

It was PJ again.

"What n-"

But I didn't have time to finish my sentence.

Because he did the one thing I thought no guy on this planet currently would do.

He kissed me...

As we separate, we both start to smile. PJ slowly walks back to his car, and I wave goodbye as he drives off. I turn back 'round to see, shockingly in the doorway, a slightly confused John Watson. A wide smile begins to spread across his face, but before he can say anything I punch him in the gut and head to my flat. As soon as I shut and lock my door, the widest grin I've ever felt spread across my already happy face. I literally wanted to scream cries of joy so loud that the heavens could hear it! After about five solid minutes of being happy for myself, I finally go to the scrap of paper he gave me. I unfold it to reveal a very good doodle of an animated mini me, along with a message and some numbers.

 

Dear Rachel,

It was truly my pleasure to save your life from who-knows-what. Maybe you and I could play a few rounds of Mario Kart soon.

Call Me,

PJ

 

Along with his phone number.

I smiled again as I got ready for bed, thinking of the oh-so wonderful fact I would be able to see PJ again. But just as I fell asleep, I thought about what happened before PJ saved my life. The way Mycroft seemed desperate for my information, like a beggar on a street corner willing to murder for food. I looked at the clock to realize that it was about midnight and I had work in the morning. With this realization, I climbed into bed and slowly fell asleep, my mind still conflicting about tonight was over all terrifying or freaking fantabulous.

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